Benediction of the Lamb
by Yxonomei
Summary: [shounen ai, RikuSora, disturbing content] When pure, even the Light becomes a force of tyranny and destruction.


**Warnings:** Slash/Shounen ai, AU, angst, violence, character death, dark themes, possibly disturbing content, dark!Sora

**Pairings:** Riku/Sora, one teeny tiny mention of Leon(Squall)/Sora

**Rating:** PG-13 - R

**Disclaimer:** Owned by Square Enix, Disney, et al.

**Summary:** When pure, even the Light becomes a force of tyranny and destruction.

A/N: For Kyrene once Blood Roses on who wanted Riku as the sane one and Sora as the dark one. There was some rather spectacular failure on this front. They both came out a little off, but at least Riku is less obvious in his instability, this author hopes. She will try this request again at a later date.

A/N2: Be forewarned—this is a peculiar child of a peculiar brain. Whether the reader may find anything worthy of approbation, the author cannot say—except that she hopes the reader will show enough human respect and dignity to refrain from sacrificing her upon the alter of the reader's indignation. Thank you most kindly for your time and for, if you may be so inclined, a memento of your visit in the form of a review. The author is, as always, the humble and pitiable servant of your entertainment.

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**:Benediction of the Lamb:**

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Rich carmine wells up along the gleaming edge and follows the course of gravity down the blade to hang, heavy and pregnant, from the tip. Then it falls, picking up flashes of light in rubescent brilliance, and sinks into the white silk brocade, spreading along threads like textile capillaries hungry for fresh life. 

"You've gone too far. This is no longer a war between good and evil. This is a false crusade."

"And you sent me on my merry way in the beginning. Isn't this what you wanted? What you all prayed and fought and died for? Isn't this what you wanted me to become?" The boy draped in rich white fabrics smiles gently up at his would-be executioner. "The dark has no place to hide, no place to rest. Give them no heart to dwell in, no tongue to whisper, no ear to hear and no eye to see. Soon not a shadow shall remain. They will all be purified."

The man, scarred and bitter, weary beyond his years and hunted by the demon he has raised up, presses the sword deeper into the boy's slender neck, and the child-hero—this innocent with blood-imbrued hands and too-red lips—does not flinch away from the penetrating kiss of steel. He has not lifted a hand or batted an eyelash since the man first appeared in the throne room of cool alabaster and marble. He only smiles as sweetly as he did long years before, when the sun still lingered in the gold of his flesh and the stars shone from his lapis lazuli eyes. Now, he is as pale and wraithlike as his world of never ending Light, and his eyes, once brilliant, liquid jewels, are clouded over and vacant. No one can stare into the heart of Light forever.

"Gods, do you even realize—?" The man stops speaking, voice cracking with disuse and fatigue. "They were your friends. You fought beside them at one time, loved them, cried for them. You called them your strength and your family, and now—!"

"They still are. They have been purified," the boy answers with the patience of a teacher attempting to inculcate a lesson in a particularly reticent student. "I will give the darkness no heart to live in. I will drive it out to burn in the Light. At least they did not run away from the Judgment like some."

"You little shit."

The man jerks the blade back and swings, cutting the air into screaming ribbons. The boy's smile never wavers as the red rills stream down his neck. Steel into yielding, weak flesh, severing ties of fragile tissues and sturdier bone? No, steel against steel, the metallic clash ringing out like a victory cry and death knell. Scrap of metal upon metal and then a fleshy denouement.

The man's head makes a wet, hollow sound as it rolls upon the hard floor, spreading a train of vermillion. The body kneels in acquiescence and obeisance to its fate and then topples over. The rich, meaty odor of blood and lesser fluids rises in a transparent mist to spice the still air.

"I didn't call for you," the boy admonishes tenderly, stretching up a hand to feel what his eyes can no longer see: exquisitely sculpted features and long, silken hair.

"You don't have to. I am always by your side." The boy's rescuer clasps his hand in his own and draws it up to bestow a warm kiss upon the smooth palm.

"Not always. You left me once, and I had to tear the universe apart to find you again."

"But I'm here now, love. You found me, and all the worlds have benefited from your pain."

Hot saline catches in the dark fans of the boy's lashes and spills over, painting glistening paths along his cheeks, but the boy continues to smile, caressing the lips that kiss his fingertips.

"You will never leave me again. I'll die if you do."

"Never."

His rescuer tugs him up from the cold throne and embraces him. Cuddled against the strong, familiar body, senses exulting in the other's presence, the boy sighs and closes his useless eyes.

"So many dark hearts left, Riku. I can taste them out there. We have to burn them all out. I won't let the darkness come back again. I won't let it try to take you away."

"Hush. I know."

"Poor Leon. I thought he at least would have understood. I had to do it. All of them had given sanctuary to the darkness, even the King." The boy loops his arms around his rescuer's neck and sighs. The other raises a hand to stroke the still-seeping lesion upon his neck. Elegant fingers probe the glistening red slit, spreading little sparks of pain with each touch. "He should have taken his Judgment with the rest of them and let the Light take him in his sleep, but he never could do things the easy way, could he?"

"It doesn't matter now, Sora. His pain is ended and the darkness is defeated."

"It's still a shame, though. He could have been such a beautiful, perfect doll, but now his head will never fit back properly. We won't be able to invite him to the tea party with the rest of them."

"Well, it's his own fault for being so obstinate."

"He kissed me once and made me cry, but now only you ever make me cry," the boy whispers, licking at the bloodstained fingers that trail up to his lips and measure out his features in vibrant smudges of carmine. "Soon all will be Light, and I then I can finally sleep. I'm so tired."

"I know, Sora. I know."

"I hope I won't dream."

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End

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End file.
